Lynn Downeyhttp://lynndowney.com
Writer | Archivist | HistorianSun, 16 Apr 2017 07:25:12 +0000enhourly1https://wordpress.org/?v=4.8.1America Enters The Great Warhttp://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/america-enters-the-great-war/
http://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/america-enters-the-great-war/#commentsThu, 06 Apr 2017 15:43:36 +0000http://lynndowney.com/?p=1508One hundred years ago today, the United States entered The Great War, World War I, which had begun in Europe in 1914. Years of American neutrality and pleas for peace began to crumble as 1917 opened.

President Wilson, despite declaring that the U.S. would never enter a European war, found himself unable to stay on the sidelines. Submarines attacked American ships, and Germany then tried to take on Mexico as an ally against the United States. Wilson went to Congress and war was declared on April 6, 1917.

How this affected the course of the war is the subject of dozens of books and too long to discuss here. But I want to take a moment to give you a look at how weary Europeans felt about the arrival of American soldiers.

In her memoir, “Testament of Youth,” British nurse Vera Brittain described her work in France. She was exhausted, terrified, because the war wasn’t going well for the Allies. One day she was walking to the hospital ward and had to wait for a large contingent of troops to pass by. She didn’t notice soldiers anymore, because they were always around. But there was something different about these men.

“They looked larger than ordinary men,” she wrote. She knew they weren’t British soldiers, and began to wonder where they had come from. Then, she heard one of the other nurses say, “Look! Look! Here are the Americans!”

Vera joined the crowd that had begun to gather. “I pressed forward with the others to watch the United States physically entering the War, so god-like, so magnificent, so splendidly unimpaired in comparison with the tired, nerve-racked men of the British Army.”

Vera and her friends watched young America march past them. “The coming of relief made me realise all at once how long and how intolerable had been the tension, and with the knowledge that we were not, after all, defeated, I found myself beginning to cry.”

]]>http://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/america-enters-the-great-war/feed/1It’s Your Birthday, Levi Strauss: Merchant, Philanthropist, Immigranthttp://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/its-your-birthday-levi-strauss-merchant-philanthropist-immigrant/
http://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/its-your-birthday-levi-strauss-merchant-philanthropist-immigrant/#commentsSun, 26 Feb 2017 17:33:54 +0000http://lynndowney.com/?p=1463Today is the 188th birthday of Levi Strauss, the man who gave blue jeans to the world. A good reason to take a moment to remember the famed San Francisco merchant and generous philanthropist whose causes ranged from orphanages to scholarships at the University of California. On this birthday, let’s remember him for something else: like so many others of his generation and his time, he was an immigrant.

Born in Buttenheim, a village in the Franconian region of Bavaria, Levi Strauss and his family left their homeland to escape religious and cultural oppression by a government that had an iron grip on every aspect of Jewish life, from the political to the most personal. Arriving in New York in 1848 Levi quickly learned the dry goods trade, and when the Gold Rush beckoned, he undertook another voyage, this time to San Francisco. There, he and his family found prosperity and acceptance.

When Levi got a letter from Latvian-born Jacob Davis in 1872, about a new kind of pants he was making, he had the vision and the wherewithal to realize that he another great opportunity before him. He and Davis patented the first blue jeans on May 20, 1873, creating a garment that was equal to the tough working men of the American West. Many of these men were also new arrivals, from places like Mexico, China, Australia, Ireland, Italy, the Philippines, the West Indies, and more.

Those pants, 144 years old this year, made Levi and Jacob famous, and we speak both of their names today: in the form of Levi Strauss & Co. and the Ben Davis company.

Here’s the real reason for this Levi Strauss birthday post: in this year of great cultural and political upheaval, let it never be forgotten that the most American of garments was created by two immigrants.

]]>http://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/its-your-birthday-levi-strauss-merchant-philanthropist-immigrant/feed/1When worlds collide……with clownshttp://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/when-worlds-collide-with-clowns/
http://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/when-worlds-collide-with-clowns/#respondSat, 04 Feb 2017 05:17:25 +0000http://lynndowney.com/?p=1430Anyone who studies or writes about California history will tell you that people, stories, facts, and weirdness will often intersect. Take, for example, my research about the doctors who worked at the Arequipa tuberculosis sanatorium, the topic of my next book. A few days ago I discovered that one doctor’s story spilled over into my previous life as the Levi Strauss & Co. Historian.

Dr. Harold F. Unsinger was a young doctor fresh out of Cincinnati Med School when he moved to San Francisco in 1921. He was a part-time physician at Arequipa for a couple of years, and then worked in a variety of hospitals in the City. In the early 1930s he also had an interesting side job teaching the “Diet and Hygiene” class at the San Francisco Workers’ School, which was set up by the local Communist Party to teach the party’s precepts to eager young men and women. The school was investigated by a special Committee on Un-American Activities in 1935, well before the big McCarthy hearings of the 1950s (though Unsinger himself was never hauled before the committee).

Anyway, Unsinger had hospital duties at Park Emergency, near the old Kezar football stadium – the original home of the San Francisco 49ers (and home to a memorable scene in “Dirty Harry”). On June 7, 1945 an injured man was rolled into the hospital, trailed by about 100 people. And not just any man.

It was a clown. A rodeo clown. A really FAMOUS rodeo clown.

His name was Homer Holcomb. He was probably the most celebrated rodeo clown in American history, and on a previous visit to San Francisco in 1939, he became part of Levi Strauss & Co. history. There was a world’s fair that year on a man-made island in San Francisco Bay called Treasure Island. And at the fair the people who made Levi’s jeans built an all-electric mechanical rodeo, featuring wooden puppets made in the likeness of real rodeo stars, including Homer Holcomb. Not only that: there was also a moving, bucking version of his mule, named “Parkyakarkus.” (Say it out loud.) The mechanical rodeo was a huge hit with fair goers.

Fast forward to 1945. Homer was performing in a rodeo at Kezar stadium, in an act where he pretended to be a bullfighter. His antagonist was a huge Brahma bull who suddenly lunged at the clown, got under him with his horns, and threw him into the air. When Homer landed, the bull then trampled and “rolled him over and over with his horns,” as the newspapers reported. He was rescued by another clown who started off in rodeo but later became a famous actor: Slim Pickens (see “Dr. Strangelove” and “Blazing Saddles”).

Rodeo staff got Homer to Park Emergency, where Dr. Harold Unsinger operated on him, though he was apparently not critically hurt. And according to reporters, the crowd of fans who had followed him the hospital refused to leave until they saw Homer come out of the operating room.

Homer lived to bullfight another day, and died in 1971 at the age of 75. He was inducted into the Pro Rodeo Hall of Fame in 1979.

It’s not every day a historian gets to write about a doctor and a rodeo clown in the same story. But in California, anything can happen.

]]>http://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/when-worlds-collide-with-clowns/feed/0What’s a historian to do?http://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/whats-a-historian-to-do/
http://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/whats-a-historian-to-do/#respondTue, 31 Jan 2017 20:26:07 +0000http://lynndowney.com/?p=1412I’ve been pondering something for the last few days: why the heck did I start a history blog in the midst of some of the most unsettled current events since the Watergate era? There are historians out there providing context, really great context, for what is going on: Douglas Brinkley, Michael Beschloss, and Heather Cox Richardson, whose essay about a “shock” event is a must-read. https://thewayofimprovement.com/2017/01/29/historian-heather-cox-richardson-on-trumps-muslim-ban-its-a-shock-event/

These folks are doing the hard historical work that every thinking person needs. But I’ve been doing something different with history, and now I’m wondering how – and if – I should even proceed.

I was all set to post a fun story about how the book I’m writing now has collided with my former life as the Levi’s Historian (involving a San Francisco doctor, a rodeo clown, and the actor Slim Pickens). But that seemed too frivolous in the midst of such a serious cultural moment.

But then I looked at this another way. Studying history brings me incredible joy; in discovery, in making connections, in finding how the past affects the present no matter how many politicians would prefer it didn’t. (You know who I’m talking about.) Am I deluded to think that others might feel the same? Is it wrong to spread a little historical fun, hoping it might light a tiny flame to ease the stress of the threats to our democracy? Or does such frivolity disrespect this moment?

I’d like to think that anything that puts joy above despair is a good thing. I’m still thinking about it, but I’m pretty sure I’ll write about that rodeo clown soon.

]]>http://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/whats-a-historian-to-do/feed/0Voices of Reason in Unreasonable Timeshttp://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/voices-of-reason-in-unreasonable-times/
http://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/voices-of-reason-in-unreasonable-times/#respondSun, 29 Jan 2017 17:38:30 +0000http://lynndowney.com/?p=1346I just re-read the great World War I memoir Testament of Youth, by British writer, pacifist, and former volunteer nurse Vera Brittain. (The book was also made into a movie last year.) Published in 1933, it is many things: personal story, war chronicle, and warning about how fascism was beginning to fizz within Europe. There are many quotable moments in the book, but there was one paragraph that stopped me in my tracks, because it seems so relevant for today in my own country. It’s actually a quote from the novel The Judge by British feminist author and critic Rebecca West.

Speaking about the British Houses of Parliament, which historically ran through phases of indifference and corruption to a place of hope, she could very easily be speaking about the American halls of power at this moment. Can the Republican party get to this same place?

“There men of all sorts who seemed utterly selfish and corrupt have to an extraordinary extent, that the most cynical interpretation of history cannot dispute, showed that they cared a little for the common good.”

]]>http://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/voices-of-reason-in-unreasonable-times/feed/0Calling All History Nerdshttp://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/daughters-of-time-2/
http://lynndowney.com/uncategorized/daughters-of-time-2/#commentsSun, 08 Jan 2017 16:32:03 +0000http://new.lynndowney.com/?p=1Tell someone that you love history and you’ll either get enthusiastic agreement or a blank stare. Or worse, “Ugh, I hated history in school.”

Well, that’s not history’s fault. Because history done well is about what everyone loves: great stories. We are hard-wired for narrative, and the best history reaches that deep part of all of us. In this blog, I hope to keep you informed and entertained with stories from my own research, my travels, my books, and some of my wacky friends (you know who you are).

As for me, I have always lived in the past.

I spent after-school hours in the fall of fifth grade on the redwood deck of my post-War suburban home in San Rafael, California dressed in a white blouse and a long, flowered skirt. There, I swept my backwoods “cabin” just like the mother in the TV series “Daniel Boone.” The following spring, Mrs. Gurin taught us about New England Puritan life by taking us into the grassy ball field behind the school buildings. She divided us into families and we set up our pretend dwellings among the native oaks which dotted the edge of the field. This was our little village of Sudbury, and we put our Puritan lessons into practice a few days a week.

I loved it, but as the grass began to go brown in May my hay fever took hold and I had to stay home the entire month. To explain my absence, my classmates said I’d been burned as a witch.

By high school I was reading fat history books and lightweight fiction set in various time periods. In 1970, during my junior year, the calico “granny” dress and granny glasses look was very popular (today we call it boho). I thought this was a historical, rather than hippie look, and decided to get one of the ruffle-fronted dresses for myself.

On the first day I wore my new finery I went into the girl’s bathroom in between morning classes. Looking absently into the mirror something clicked in my brain and with horror and a blush of shame, I realized that my button-up-the-back cotton dress was actually a nightgown.

My forays into historical clothing got less embarrassing as I got older. For me, anyway.

My Daguerrotype Boyfriend

A young man, a photograph, and the insatiable urge to explore

Talking About FredI’m obsessed with the short life and tragic death of Boston journalist Frederick Wadsworth Loring, who was killed in the Wickenburg Massacre of November 5, 1871 (I’ll be writing a book about him soon). In 2016 friend and audio engineer Diane Hope recorded my thoughts about Fred for the podcast Out There. Take a listen, and enjoy.

Episode 20: My Daguerrotype Boyfriend - a preview

“There’s a temptation, when we look at history, to think it’s just … a story from the past – sort of one or two dimensional. But … there’s really no difference between young people from the past and young people today. Young people want to take chances, they want new experiences.”